


Stay, I'm Sorry

by Simoncult



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Baz Pitch - Freeform, Break Up, Breakup, Depressed Simon Snow, Explicit Language, Fighting, Hurt, Hurt Baz Pitch, Insults, M/M, Post-Book 1: Carry On, Pre-Book 2: Wayward Son, Simon Snow - Freeform, SnowBaz, Swearing, Yelling, snowbaz break up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25065424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simoncult/pseuds/Simoncult
Summary: Baz pushed Simon's buttons just a little too much todayAnd Simon snaps, reopening old wounds Baz thought had healed.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 7
Kudos: 81





	Stay, I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ!!!!  
> this fic has extremely vulgar language. there is fighting and insults being thrown around.  
> this may trigger you  
> please read carefully.

**Baz**

Bunce has left the flat, leaving me and Simon alone. Nothing bad is going to happen, I'm sitting in the kitchen, fixing tea for me and Simon while he flips through channels on the couch.

He's been doing this for hours, and before that it was days. He spends all his time on the couch, wings and all. Bottles of empty cider sit on the coffee table and floor around him. Some from today, some from last week. Bunce and I stopped counting. It just made him more upset.

I finish our cups and walk to the couch, setting them down and starting to pick up empty bottles. "This is getting unhealthy, Snow. Drinking this much isn't good for you."

He doesn't answer verbally, just shrugs. I always wish there was something I could do. I try giving him compliments, he brushes them off. I try to engage in a game or movie night, he dismisses me. I try holding him as a boyfriend should, and he just stiffens. He doesn't let me hold him anymore. He just mopes on the couch, ignoring every time I try and nudge him off the couch or take us to go get dinner.

It's almost to the point where it's too much to handle. I don't want to leave him, but I can see in his eyes that he's slipping away from me. He's doing it faster than I can bring him back. He was doing so well when he was seeing his therapist. She was actually helping him. Then he stopped taking his meds and slowly stopped visiting her office. He used the excuse "I'm better now, we don't need to spend the money."

But he isn't better. He's sitting on the couch, drinking his life away and I'm watching him do it. The only time we go out is when he needs more to drink and I, full of guilt, hand him my card.

I sit next to him on the couch and he moves his legs to make room. His entire body is sprawled over the couch as he watches a rerun of Tattoo Disasters. The TV never holds my attention, I'm watching Simon. The way his wings (why did he give himself dragon wings?) move idly and the way he bites his bottom lip during some of the scenes.

I make conversation because I know he won't, "You settle on this show a lot. Thinking about getting a tattoo soon?" 

He doesn't really answer again, just shakes his head and sips his tea.

I've been wanting to bring the conversation up for a while, him going back to his therapist. Every time Bunce or I mention it, he's getting defensive and snappy within seconds. He's always been short-tempered, but this is different. It's a conversation he knows he needs to have but is refusing. Maybe with Bunce gone, he'll be a little more open to his, ya know, _boyfriend_.

"Simon," that catches his attention, in a good or bad way, I'm not sure, but I got him, "can we talk?" he swallows thickly, hands already fidgeting. 

"Yeah," his voice is soft and nervous, but he said it so low I barely heard it. He hasn't carried a proper conversation in days.

I can see the questions racing in his mind, _"Is this where he leaves me? Is this where it all comes to an end_ _?"_ and I want to reassure him. After he sits up, I place my hand on his thigh. My heart breaks just slightly when he flinches away from my touch. 

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I know you don't like talking about this but-"

"No," he shakes his head, cutting me off and moving to get up off the couch. I push back down by his leg.

"Simon please, we need to talk about it," he scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"We don't have to talk about shit, Baz. I told you I'm fine."

"You spend all day on the couch-"

"Because I'm out of school."

"You don't talk-"

"You don't provide interesting conversation." He's starting to insult me, I know he's just getting defensive and I remind myself he doesn't mean it.

"You drink like a monster-" I can spot the moment he snaps. The moment I regret bringing this up. The moment I felt genuine fear for the first time in a while.

"You think you know fucking everything, don't you? You can't keep your nose out of someone's business for two goddamn seconds. I told you I'm fine. I'm so sorry that you regret picking me, but I didn't fucking ask you too."

My heart drops through the floor as he shoves me off, he stands and starts walking into the kitchen. I know if this had happened last year, the flat would be full of smoke and he'd be damn near about to explode.

"Simon I-"

"I'm drinking like a monster? You're going to look me in the face and call _me_ the monster? Look in the fucking mirror. The only monster here is you, Tyrannus." He's shouting now, definitely loud enough to alert the neighbors. 

I freeze, memories of school and home come flashing back. Remembering the fights I'd have, the many many nights spent in the catacombs because I couldn't be around people. The look in my mother's eyes as she burst into flames. The way my father can't even look at me anymore, and I know it's not his fault, it's because I look just like her.

"Simon you... you don't mean that..."

"I don't mean it?? There you go again, thinking you know more than anyone else. Thinking you have the fucking right to tell me I'm wrong about something about myself. I should've listened when people told me to stay away. They were right, you're an egocentric, arrogant, monster. And now that we're out of Watford, you can't handle not being right about everything. You have to be right about _something_ , don't you?? Penny was right, Agatha was right, everyone was right about you. You're nothing."

I let him talk. I let him go on and on slapping me with insult after insult. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt. It felt like he stabbed me. He's stabbed me and his twisting the blade, pouring salt in every wound he makes.

"You're nothing but a mistake, Tyrannus. Just like your father said."

That was it. That was all I could take. Stab after stab, he just couldn't stop.

I shoot up and walk into his room.

**Simon**

Baz gets up from the couch. He doesn't say a word to me, he doesn't even look at me. I can see his jaw is clenched and his hands have made fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms.

_Fuck. I fucked up._

I take a few deep breathes and pace around the kitchen. I was expecting the bedroom door to slam and him barricade himself in there until he was ready to talk to me again. Instead, I hear the sound of a bag hitting the bed and the wardrobe door open. I walk into the bedroom and see him throwing shirts into his suitcase.

"Are you... going home for a couple of days?"

"No." His response is short and level.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving, Snow. I'm leaving," he wipes his cheek. I can't see his face, but I can tell he's crying.

"Baz, fuck - You were right, I didn't mean any of that shit-"

"You didn't mean it? You really want me to fucking believe that? You seemed pretty serious, calling me nothing. A mistake. There didn't seem to be the slightest amount of regret in your voice when you said those things. Lot's of resentment though. I'm pretty good at reading spaces, and if I'm not welcome, I fucking leave," he pushes his way past me, grabbing bottles of his shampoo and conditioner before throwing them in the bag.

I try to grab his arm, his waist, something to get him to stop and talk to me again. No arguments. The second my fingers are on him, he's shoving me off, shouting at me.

"Don't fucking touch me, Snow."

"Baz, I'm sorry I-"

"What happened to _Tyrannus_?" he spit his name through clenched teeth, glaring at me while he did it. If he could kill me, he would.

"Please don't leave. I'm sorry," tears well in my eyes and I try to hold him, but he slips out of my grasp.

"You don't get to do this, Simon. You don't get to treat someone like that and expect forgiveness. I don't know what Agatha ever saw in you," I can tell he doesn't mean it. Unlike me, his voice is wavering and he's worrying his bottom lip. He only does that when he's lying, one of his few tells. 

It still hurts none the less. I fall to the ground, fully aware of how pathetic I look, and cry. He doesn't address me, just finished packing and walks out of the room. I hear the front door open and I look back. He's staring at me, door open behind him.

"Stay, I'm sorry.." my voice breaks and I reach out to him.

He shakes his head and slams the door behind him.


End file.
